


Moving In

by TheLastStraws



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin thinks Obi-Wan is weird, Flower Language, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan is baffled by Anakin, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Padawan Braids (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, but they like each other anyway, master padawan dorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28683630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastStraws/pseuds/TheLastStraws
Summary: “How come none of the other rooms have plants?” Anakin asked as he trotted over to the dining room table. “Are they yours?”“No.” His voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure Anakin would even be able to hear him. “No, not mine.” Such a simple question, but he felt the twist in his chest nonetheless. He swallowed thickly before answering, “They were Qui-Gon’s.”“Oh,” he breathed out, then seemed to take in the room anew, casting his gaze to each pot. There was a solemn wrinkle in his brow, all the more evident now that the boy’s hair had been cut from the shaggy look he sported before.Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure why, but he didn’t want to hear what Anakin would say in return.(Or: About a month after Naboo, Obi-Wan and Anakin move into Master-Padawan living quarters together.)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 118





	Moving In

**Author's Note:**

> Should I have written something new when I have works in progress? Probably not. Did I anyway? Most definitely. So from what I could gather, the Master-Padawan shared dorms don't seem to exist outside of fanfiction, but you can pry them from my cold, lifeless hands because they're just way to flippin precious to pass up.
> 
> Anyway, this is my attempt at cute Ani & Obi bonding. Hope you enjoy!

The curled leaf brushed against his cheek, and with another step, it tickled his nose. Obi-Wan shifted the large pot in his arms, now pressing it uncomfortably into his chest, but he only had a few more steps to carry it.

Obi-Wan admittedly felt a little silly, trying to sneak plants of all things through the Temple, but it wasn’t as though anyone would see him in the empty hallway. It was a bit strange being in such a quiet section of the Temple and even more so the fact that he was going to be living in it.

The Council and creche masters had decided to transfer Anakin and Obi-Wan to the old Master-Padawan dorms the Jedi had used years ago. Normally, Obi-Wan would’ve been transferred from his Senior Padawan dorms in his clan housing to the Knights Billet now that he’d achieved knighthood. But those in the billet didn’t typically have Padawans so early. It was housing meant for quick stays considering Knights were allowed and encouraged to take on as many solo missions as they wanted. It wasn’t until there were years of service under their belt did individual Knights get their own private living quarters. And that was usually when they decided to take on their own Padawans.

For Padawans, they lived together under one clan housing, each with their own room to sleep in, but all other amenities were in a common living space, similar to the Knights Billet.

Either environment was not...ideal for Obi-Wan and Anakin’s situation. Obi-Wan would’ve been fine with his placement in the billet, but he was informed that Anakin wasn’t doing particularly well in his unfamiliar surroundings, and he realized the common area setting probably wouldn’t have been conducive to a new Knight figuring out how to care for…well, Anakin, and all that entailed.

So here they were.

Palming open the door, he placed the plant on the floor, the last of the bunch. The others he hadn’t found a place for yet, dotted around the room in no particular order, but he figured there would be time to decide. Off to the right of the door was a small kitchen, a dining room table big enough for two or three hovering just outside of that, a living area where most of the plants were with a couch and bookshelf, and to the left and back were two bedrooms—one for the Padawan, one for the Master. The restroom was in the middle of the two.

He didn’t know these quarters existed. But apparently they were in use just seventy years ago when the last pair finally moved out, and they were even the preferred living arrangements for training Jedi before then. He wondered why they weren’t in use anymore. They were perfectly serviceable places to live, after all, and the proximity to one's Master or apprentice would be convenient. 

With the pots dotted around the room, he could imagine living with—

His throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

The deep breaths he forced through his nose loosened the knot in his chest enough for him to clear his throat and set his sights on finding locations for the plants.

Obi-Wan fully absorbed himself in finding locations for them, avoiding the thought of why he brought them to his dorm in the first place. To distract himself, he merely thought of their physical origin: the gray plant was from a shaded planet, the vines from a forested moon, and the textured cactus from a desert planet. The hanging vines he decided to hook near the kitchen while he put the hulking pot he’d carried last near the bookshelf. A flower near its bloom went on the dining room table. He left the cactus and darker plant near the couch. This would be Anakin’s home, too, so he figured… well, maybe it was something Anakin and he could do together.

They hadn't had a lot of time to get to know each other, not really. Not significant amounts of time, anyway. Between Obi-Wan learning how to be a Knight since...well,  _ since _ , and Anakin starting his studies, Obi-Wan still felt a little  _ unsure  _ around the boy. 

They'd certainly be spending more time together now.

He carried his own meager belongings, mostly just his clothing and a few books from the archives he hadn’t returned yet, to his quarters. It was simple, but more spacious than he was expecting. A bed lay in the middle, a work table off to one side, a smaller bookshelf than out in the main room to the other side, and a closet inset into the wall. Peeking into Anakin’s, he saw his own room mirrored, minus the bookshelf, but someone was kind enough to already set Anakin’s work table up with homework supplies.

Checking the clock, he didn’t have enough time to meditate, so he took his time unfolding his robes and tunics to hang them in the closet. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long for Anakin to arrive; just ten minutes later he heard the knock on the door.

He vaguely recognized the newer creche adviser, a rodian with pale green skin, but his attention was mainly on Anakin, who shuffled into their new dwelling with his worn Tatooine bag over his shoulder. His new, short braid was just loose hair tickling his neck, and one pant leg was completely out of his boot. Obi-Wan thanked the Jedi for bringing him here, as did Anakin in a shier voice than he thought the boy capable, and it was then just the two of them—alone together.

The space felt more cramped than it had just a minute ago as he said, “Your room is in the back if you want to put your stuff away. Tunics and robes are already in the closet for you.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh, go get us some dinner while you…do that.”

Anakin looked surprised before he turned to his room. “Oh, uh, okay.”

Obi-Wan nodded both to himself and the little boy before he made his way to the cafeteria. The quiet opened up to activity as he ascended a couple of floors, and he thought he nodded to a few Knights as he grabbed what to eat. But as he went to scoop the first helping, he paused, cursing himself. What did Anakin like to eat? Unsure, he grabbed a bit of a variety and hauled the trays back to the lower levels where their room was. 

The empty hallways leading there echoed even more than before. 

When he slid the door open, he found Anakin sitting cross-legged on the couch as he squinted at the gray plant Obi-Wan had left out in his hand, but the opening door caused the boy to dart his head up.

“You’re back!” He grinned, and Obi-Wan sent him a small smile in return, showing off the two heaping trays of food. 

“And with food,” he said, placing them on the table, though he realized setting the flower there may have been an unwise decision, as he had to lunge for it before it fell. He flushed when he heard a small giggle from Anakin but managed to keep an even face when he placed it on the counter instead.

“How come none of the other rooms have plants?” Anakin asked as he trotted over to the dining room table. “Are they yours?”

“No.” His voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure Anakin would even be able to hear him. “No, not mine.” Such a simple question, but he felt the twist in his chest nonetheless. He swallowed thickly before answering, “They were Qui-Gon’s.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, then seemed to take in the room anew, casting his gaze to each pot. There was a solemn wrinkle in his brow, all the more evident now that the boy’s hair had been cut from the shaggy look he sported before. 

Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure why, but he didn’t want to hear what Anakin would say in return.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked, grabbing plates and utensils for them. He handed one set to Anakin, who blinked in surprise. He’d been looking at the gray plant again, with more intensity, though, this time.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I grabbed a few varieties,” he continued.

Finally it seemed like the boy realized what was sitting in front of him, and Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the amused twitch of his lips as Anakin practically drooled over the trays.

“Whoa,” he said. “I can eat  _ any  _ of this?”

“Yes, provided you leave some for me.” His lips pulled up into something more teasing.

He wasn’t expecting how absolutely  _ affronted  _ Anakin looked as he snapped his head up from the food. “I wouldn’t make you go hungry!”

“I...I didn’t think you would,” he said, blinking in surprise.

Now the boy just appeared baffled. “Then why’d you say that?”

“I—” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Never mind.”

Anakin tilted his head at him, staring with curious eyes, and Obi-Wan was reminded of a loth cat Qui-Gon had scooped up to take back to their camp years ago on their way to a local village. His master was known to pick up a wide variety of “pathetic lifeforms,” as Obi-Wan was wont to call them (originally in exasperation then in amusement as the years went by), but Obi-Wan never had the natural instinct his master did to know what to do with them. Which was how he normally ended up sitting on the sidelines while said pathetic lifeforms stared at Obi-Wan, wondering who this tagalong was who didn’t pet them or hold them or feed them the way they wanted. The loth cat in particular stared; he remembered because it did so all night and into the morning, so Obi-Wan woke to beady green eyes staring down at him from his rock perch.

Finally, Anakin seemed to decide something, and he said, “You’re weird.”

Not entirely sure how to respond to such a judgment, he just picked up his plate. “How about we just…eat?”

That seemed to erase the conversation, for Anakin beamed, his own plate in hand. Obi-Wan raised a brow at how Anakin grabbed a piece of everything and stacked them precariously on his plate, but he noted how he left exactly half for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan didn’t take it, but it was a nice gesture. 

Anakin seemed a bit overwhelmed with his choices when Obi-Wan looked over. He was hovering his fork over steak, almost stabbing it, then moving it over to a salad, repeating the motion for everything on his plate.

“Why don’t you start with the hot foods and work your way to the cold?” he suggested, taking pity on the hungry child.

He nodded, grinning, then went to scoop up warm beans. Curious, Obi-Wan watched as Anakin rolled it around in his mouth, a look of such serious contemplation on his face it was comical. He swallowed, smacked his lips, and Obi-Wan almost laughed at how much he looked like some sort of food connoisseur. 

Anakin nodded, seeming to finally come to a decision. “They’re really mushy.”

Obi-Wan stamped down an unseemly snort. “So they are.”

“I like them better when they’re crunchy.”

“I like them that way too.”

Anakin beamed. “Really?”

Not sure why that was such an exciting prospect, Obi-Wan merely nodded.

“Wizard,” Anakin said with a small smile then stabbed his fork into the next food. 

And so it continued. Anakin would try a bite of food, chew it slowly, then judge its worth on some simple observation. Sometimes it was that he just liked it while other times he commented on texture or spice. He never said he  _ disliked  _ anything, merely said he preferred one taste over the other. 

The strange boy had such enthusiasm for it he somehow even dragged Obi-Wan into giving his opinion on each food too, making Anakin laugh when he used overly complicated wording to describe mashed potatoes.

Before he knew it, they were sitting with empty plates and trays in front of them, and Obi-Wan was...well, he was shocked. He wasn’t particularly hungry when he sat down, not having much of a consistent appetite this past month, but he ate  _ everything _ .

He was still wondering how he managed that without noticing as he washed the dishes. Anakin had settled onto the couch after dinner, curiously sitting upside down, legs propped against the back and sticking up while his head rolled off the edge. He seemed to be perfectly content in what Obi-Wan would assume to be a very uncomfortable position. He was even kicking his feet to an unknown rhythm as he gazed—upside down—around the room.

Obi-Wan dried and put away the plate, removing any leftover water from his hands too as he did. Anakin was still sitting the same way. Was Obi-Wan ever so  _ strange  _ when he was a child? Perhaps these oddities were what made the creche masters think Anakin was uncomfortable in his previous lodgings. Obi-Wan couldn’t think of other children like Anakin, though he admitted to not spending much time with younglings.

He shook his head. No, he knew that wasn’t why they thought so. He remembered when Master Eurin approached him and told him of Anakin’s problems.

“He’s not sleeping,” she said. “He’s not even using his bed.”

He recalled the statements bringing clarity to the last couple weeks. They hadn’t put Anakin in with normal classes since he was so far behind due to his age, so one of the Archives’ librarians was tutoring Anakin when Obi-Wan was away on assignments. Initially a very attentive student, as the days went on, he was losing focus, and she’d even caught him sleeping during study periods. Obi-Wan himself had found Anakin napping in his quarters at odd times during the day.

He wasn’t sleeping in his dorm room. In fact, she found him curled up in a ball in a corner, eyeing the door, when she came to check on him one night, and that seemed to be what he did every night until he couldn’t resist sleep any longer, propped up against the wall.

After their conversation, he sought out Anakin in order to figure out what was wrong. It took a bit of coaxing and a gentle tug on his Padawan braid, but Anakin had finally whispered, “There are too many people I don’t know.”

And that answer from a different youngling would’ve been a relatively minor hang up, but from Anakin, a former slave, who would rather hide in a corner rather than trust those around him to fall asleep…well, it was no wonder they ended up in these abandoned dorms.

Though looking at Anakin comfortably sprawled out on the couch, Obi-Wan never would’ve guessed he had been wary of his new surroundings earlier. He wondered why Anakin could kick his feet up without a care here rather than in the Padawan clan dorms.

Those loth-cat eyes were staring at him again.

“I’m full,” he declared after a moment, and there was something in his voice Obi-Wan couldn’t really place.

“I would imagine so,” he said. “We ate quite a bit.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I mean, I’m  _ really  _ full. Like really,  _ really _ . Like so full it kind of feels like there’s a big rock in my stomach.”

Obi-Wan scrunched his brow, trying to understand what Anakin was expecting as a response. He trailed his eyes from his feet down to his head, the order still a bit baffling to him.

“Is that why you’re sitting upside down?”

“No,” he said, like that was all the answer he needed. He patted his stomach with a look of contentment. “I like being full.”

Obi-Wan sobered. Oh, he thought. That was what he meant. Anakin had been in the Temple’s care for a month now, and the healers had told Obi-Wan he was underweight when he first got checked out, a fact he knew just from looking at the boy, but not something he really  _ understood _ . Now, watching the way Anakin hummed in pleasure at a full stomach, he thought he did a little.

But at Obi-Wan’s realization, he warily looked at Anakin’s stomach. “You don’t feel like you’re going to be sick, right?”

He remembered the diet the healers had given Anakin to pump him back full of vitamins and minerals, and it was just a week ago he was allowed a full diet. It probably wasn’t the smartest decision to let Anakin eat practically everything from the cafeteria in one sitting, Obi-Wan thought with a wince.

Thankfully, Anakin chirped out, “Nope!”

He sighed in relief. This wasn’t like when he gave a litter of wizzle rabbits too much formula while Qui-Gon was gone for the day. He was cleaning up puke for an hour.

“Is this dead?” 

Without him realizing, Anakin had twirled back around, sitting the correct way, and was looking again at the gray plant.

“It’s quite healthy, actually,” he said as he settled next to Anakin on the couch. The gray stems branched out into circular leaves of the same color lined with veins of blue. 

“This’s the color it’s supposed to be?” Anakin picked up the pot. “Is it special?”

“All life is special,” he said. “Though this variety isn’t particularly rare. The planet it comes from, the people primarily gift it to others, whether in bouquets or a leaf tied to a present.”

“How come?”

“Sometimes, plant life can have a symbolic meaning. They convey a sentiment people can’t always express through words alone. For example, that plant in your hands means gratitude, more specifically gratitude for being in someone’s life.”

Anakin seemed to mull over that, tilting the pot so he could take in every angle of it. Obi-Wan noted how gentle he was, keeping a solid grip with both hands as he moved it, and he was appreciative of the gesture. 

“So,” he started, “this means thanks for being there?”

“In essence.”

“Do the other plants mean something?”

His eyes drifted around the apartment. “Some of them. If the planet of origin has a meaning. Some don’t.” He pointed to the large pot. It contained a small tree, its trunk twining around itself in a braid, while the light green leaves were long, thin, and curly. “That one wishes us prosperity.” At Anakin’s quizzical look, he clarified, “Good fortune.” He then pointed to the cactus. “And that means truth.”

Anakin held the gray plant in his lap now, flicking his eyes between the tree and cactus. 

“Huh,” was all he said.

Obi-Wan didn’t really have anything else to say in response, so they settled into silence, though Obi-Wan kept wondering if he should continue with the subject or let it lie. Anakin, on the other hand, was studying the plant, softly brushing against the leaves with his fingers, and he seemed content to continue doing so. 

He’d have to show him this species in the dark. The lines of blue streaking across the leaves glowed at night. So fascinated by it and the message behind the plant, Qui-Gon had smuggled the seeds on board their transport when they left the planet. After their ship got crushed by a rock slide, they were forced to take public transportation, and the customs on such a flight were strict—not that Master Qui-Gon listened. At just fourteen, he remembered being flustered when Master Qui-Gon shoved half of them in Obi-Wan’s belt, laughing under his breath all the way when he’d sweat around the employees on board.

“Serenity, my dear padawan,” he had said, a twinkle in his eye, and Obi-Wan had just glared at him.

Now, he wondered how the plants were going to survive. Obi-Wan wasn’t particularly known to have a green thumb, not like his Master. The thought of killing Master Qui-Gon’s collection was… Anguish threatened to suck the air from his lungs. He bit the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he let out a breath. Then he stood.

“We have an early start tomorrow, so time for bed,” he said, then walked to the kitchen. “I’ll take these trays back.”

Just as he was about to walk out the door, he paused, turning to the boy. “Brush your teeth while I’m gone. Pajamas are in your closet.” Anakin had set the plant down and was just looking at him. “Toothbrush and washcloths are in the bathroom.” He cleared his throat. “Right. I’ll return shortly.”

Without giving Anakin time to respond, he left with the two dirty trays in front of him. He didn’t really have to take them back tonight, but as he mentioned, they  _ did  _ have an early morning planned. And he wanted to make sure Anakin actually got sleep tonight. He hoped he could actually fall asleep comfortably. He planned to check in with him a little later.

He didn’t really know what he’d do if he couldn’t sleep. What more did Obi-Wan know about children than the creche masters? Nothing. Frankly, he wasn’t quite sure what good his presence was supposed to do for Anakin; he probably would be happier on his own rather than with another stranger.

An image of Anakin giggling at dinner drifted into his mind.

Well, perhaps not  _ stranger _ .

An odd thought—not being a stranger to this little boy from Tatooine. They’d only known each other for about one month so far, master and apprentice even less than that, and it somehow felt longer. Perhaps it was the connection on Naboo, but he suspected, out of everything, it was the association with Master Qui-Gon which really solidified their relationship—whatever that might be.

Technically, it was Master and Padawan. Technically, Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight capable of being assigned a Padawan, and Anakin was an initiate advanced enough to become a Padawan. 

Technically.

Realistically, Obi-Wan didn’t have the mental capacity to label what their situation was; he didn’t know if he ever would.

Sighing, he placed the trays on the pile and made his way back to their quarters—back to their solitary dorms in an unused part of the Temple where just his footsteps were capable of shattering the echoing silence with an alarming volume.

Obi-Wan didn’t have the mental capacity to think much on  _ that  _ either.

He palmed the door open and found Anakin sitting back on the couch, though this time he was sitting sideways, back against the armrest, and facing the door.

“You’re back!” he said—exactly as he had before.

“And without food,” he said the same too, but Anakin responded with a scrunched, confused brow.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Are you ready for bed?”

“Yup!”

He raised an eyebrow. “And yet you’re out here and not in your room.”

The pout Obi-Wan was met with was just so  _ childlike _ that Obi-Wan had to remember how much of a child he was. Nine years old, three to four years younger than most padawans. 

“I’m not tired yet,” Anakin said and ducked his head down to attempt hiding a yawn.

“Yes, that yawn was quite lively.”

There was that pout again. “I don’t want to go to bed yet.”

Obi-Wan almost responded with another suggestion to retire, but he paused and ran his tongue over his teeth. Anakin was tapping his socked toes together and he didn’t  _ look  _ uncomfortable, but the creche masters didn’t notice anything was wrong right away either, so maybe not.

He gently sat down next to Anakin’s feet. “You haven’t gotten much sleep lately.”

Anakin sighed at that, and he seemed almost disappointed when he said, “I  _ know _ .”

“Then I think it may be time to go to sleep.”

“But—” He cut himself off and bit his lip.

Obi-Wan tried to give him a reassuring smile. “But…?”

He continued to bite his lip until he finally asked, “Help me with this?” He gestured to the untamed strand of hair which was supposed to be his Padawan braid.

“Is that what this is about?” He couldn’t help both the amusement and exasperation he felt at the request. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to redo the braid. “Yes, of course.”

Anakin smiled then crawled over to sit directly next to him, feet tucked under him.

“It came out in the shower,” he explained as Obi-Wan gently hooked his finger around the strand.

“It was your shirt last time.”

He separated one strand.  _ Master.  _

“That was the time before.  _ Last time  _ it was when I did a cartwheel.”

He separated the second.  _ Padawan _ .

“Oh, yes, how could I forget? That poor droid.”

He separated the third.  _ The Force _ .

“H-Hey, I didn’t  _ mean _ to knock him over. Besides, he said he forgave me because I fixed his sensors.”

Three over two, one over three, two over one.

“Did he? How many droids is that? Five you’ve fixed?”

The Force entwined with the Padawan, the Master entwined with the Force, the Padawan entwined with the Master.

“Six! Dusty needed to be cleaned.”

He pinched the end.

“You’re quite the mechanic.” He lightly pulled on the finished braid. “Do you have the tie?”

Anakin nodded, and Obi-Wan had to move his hand with the boy’s head so he didn’t release the braid. He presented a fraying brown string, the same he wanted Obi-Wan to use every time. And every time Obi-Wan attempted to tie it as tight as he could so it wouldn’t fall out, but apparently no such luck so far. 

Padawans were allowed to customize their padawan braids or beads however they liked, though many left them plain. However, some were creative, using ribbons or tattoos or other designs. As long as there was a clear indication the initiate was a Padawan, the Council didn’t mind. Master Plo Koon apparently had three different colored ribbons he braided for his apprenticeship. 

So when Anakin gave him his own tie for the braid, Obi-Wan accomodated, though the twine was shedding and beginning to unravel as he tied it together again. The last time Obi-Wan suggested replacing it, Anakin was steadfastly against it. He didn’t think now would be a good time to bring it up again.

“There we go.” He tugged once more to make sure the string was tight. 

Anakin ran a couple fingers down the braid and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, padawan mine. Let’s see if it stays this time, shall we?”

Anakin was about to answer when he was cut off by a yawn.

Obi-Wan smirked. “ _ Now  _ are you tired?”

Another pout was his response, so Obi-Wan said, “Time for bed.”

“Bu’m not tired,” the boy slurred through another yawn.

“ _ Anakin _ .” 

“I’m  _ not _ .”

Obi-Wan released a sigh, though he leaned forward to catch Anakin’s eye. “Why don’t you want to go to bed? Is it like before? Are you uncomfortable?”

He shook his head.

“Then what it is?”

“I—I just wanted…” Anakin’s face flushed, but instead of continuing, he reached forward to the table and plucked a leaf from the gray plant. It sat in his palm as he extended it toward Obi-Wan. The stem curled a little against his skin, and the gray seemed so dark against his calloused palm. Slowly, Obi-Wan picked it from his hand with his thumb and finger and cradled it in his own palm.

“I…wanted to talk some more,” Anakin whispered, and Obi-Wan’s throat tightened, loosening only enough to release a small, “Oh.”

_ “Here, Obi-Wan. I’d like you to have this.” _

He ran his thumb along one of the blue lines, and the leaf was soft against his skin—just as it was last time. A ghost’s hand patted his shoulder.

He blinked rapidly and swallowed past the lump in his throat. His eyes flicked up to see Anakin sitting there shyly, twiddling his fingers. This little boy who convinced him to create poetry about mashed potatoes and was excited they liked to eat beans the same way; this little boy who liked to fix droids and sat upside down and was leagues smarter than Obi-Wan was at that age.

Anakin Skywalker, who couldn’t braid his hair and stayed up late so he could talk to Obi-Wan.

_ “So this means thanks for being there?” _

He brushed his thumb against the leaf again.

“Anakin,” he said, and his Padawan straightened, waiting for Obi-Wan. The Knight reached to the table and plucked a leaf off the plant. He held it out to Anakin by the stem.

The answering grin made Obi-Wan’s chest warm, and he smiled when Anakin grabbed the leaf with both hands, holding it in front of his face.

“Really?” he asked, beaming smile not waning in the slightest.

He tugged on Anakin’s braid just a little. “Really.” He could feel each interwoven strand bumping against the pad of his thumb.  _ Master, Padawan, the Force _ .

“Does this mean I get to stay up later?” 

Anakin’s grin had mischievous, so Obi-Wan gave his best unamused glower despite the chuckle. “ _ No _ , it means  _ go to bed _ .”

“ _ Fine _ ,” he grumbled dramatically as he plopped backwards onto the couch, rolled off, then trudged to his room. But before he went inside, he looked over his shoulder to say, “Goodnight, Obi-Wan!”

He didn’t bother to correct the term of address. “Goodnight, Anakin.”

The door slid shut behind the smiling Padawan, and he made his way to his own rooms, though he listened to make sure he was settling down for sleep before he shut his door. When he heard the crinkle of the comforter and sheets, he turned the lights off and watched as the blue veins brightened on the leaf, glowing in his hand.

He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a hard time finding a decent ending, so this is what you got. Let me know what you think! Thanks!


End file.
